Hopeless
by Dream On105
Summary: Kris Dune-Lape was a normal twenty-three year old girl, working as a struggling artist. Little did she know that meeting a strange blonde-haired man in a coffee shop one day, would change her life forever.
1. Meet Kristine DuneLape

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling I simply own my own characters...**

She moved her paper over a bit, so the waitress could pour the black tea she had ordered. It was pleasant air outside and she had opted for a seat in the sun-and then kindly asked for an umbrella. Her orange outfit looked like something out of the sixties, and the matching headband didn't help her looks much. She smiled at the waitress, and, just as she was replacing her newspaper firmly in front of her face, she caught sight of a man about three meters away from her, at the next table over. He had platinum blonde hair that you typically saw on a Barbie doll and he was dressed, although in light clothes that caught the breeze just slightly, in complete, head to toe black. His eyes met hers for a split second, and then he turned from her with an indifference that can only be defined as a very ass-like move on his part.

Kris swore mentally, and all those nights spent with her very English grandmother, who painstakingly taught Kris every dinner-table manner that she knew, came flooding back to her. Kris straitened up her posture, sat on the edge of her seat, and crossed her ankles, like a proper lady. She raised the newspaper high in front of her face and pulled off the headband from the comfort of the solitude the three sectioned paper provided. She used one of her hands to ruffle up her hair, so that it didn't look quite so neat and tidy, and took a deep breath so she could achieve that cool, casual demeanor this man had.

When Kris lowered her newspaper, folding it vertically and placing it off to the right, she glanced up at the man, who at the moment, was sipping from his cup while his harsh eyes focused on a particular bird. Kris picked up her cup and took a sip, struggling to maintain her composure as it seared her mouth and burned her tongue. She took a long sip from her glass of water, but the unpleasant feeling of when you realize that you have a good week or two before you can actually taste anything properly, swept over her body like a breeze of cold winter air.

"It looked better with the headband, so you know," came the cool, confident, collective tone of the man at the next table over. Kris looked up at him with a deep confusion in her face, shocked that he was even talking to her, let alone acknowledging her presence. She watched him stand up, not setting down his cup, and walk over to her. Once he was standing in front of Kris, he held out his right hand and opened his mouth again. "I'm Draco, but everyone calls me by my last name, Malfoy." She stared at his hand now, noticing his accent.

Kris stood up looking into his eyes and meeting his stare, she returned the handshake. "Kristine Dune-Lape. Spelt like 'lap' with an 'e' on the end, but pronounced with the accent on the 'pe' and the 'e' sounds a lot more like an 'a'. I know, confusing French names. Anyways, everyone calls me Kris, and my friends call me Krissy." She motioned for Draco to sit down. She took a sip from her black tea, not tasting it, but swallowing it just the same. "What brings you to Canada? Are you an immigrant?" she asked, rather rudely, and mentally swore at herself for not thinking before she talked.

"Well, I recently found a job opportunity here for a short period of time. What about you?" Malfoy asked in a calm tone, setting his cup down on the table, staring at the building across the street.

"Born and bred Canadian. I work as an artist and I have got a few pieces in the exhibit up at the hotel. Not a big gallery, of course, but I managed to pull a few strings and get a few of my pieces into the gallery. I pay the rent by working as a waitress at the coffee house down on 5th Avenue. How do you make your living?" Kris asked.

"Research, for a very boring company, on a very boring topic. I've only just relocated to Canada a few months ago," Malfoy answered. He fiddled with his sleeves, pulling them lower on his arms. Kris would have thought that he would pull them up, if anything, he was the one sitting directly in the way of the sun.

"Do you want me to shift over? Give you some room in the shade?" Kris was already half standing, but he put his hand out.

"No, no, I'm quite alright," he looked at her, and withdrew his hand, replacing back on his sleeve. "This is the first time that the weather's stayed nice for longer than a couple of days. Do you remember? It was really nice the one day, the next it was snowing. Crazy weather here, I'm telling you. At least it doesn't rain all the time," he gave her a small smirk that she laughed at.

"Don't like the weather?" Kris asked, looking him in the eye. He nodded. "Wait five minutes, it'll change." They both laughed. Kris took a long drink from her glass as a cloud rolled by in front of the sun. The sky turned a little dark, but neither of them really cared.

"So, what's it like in England?" Kris asked.

"It rains, all the time," he replied. "What's it like in the winter?"

"Depressing, cold, white, freezing, fun on occasion, cold, and full of colorful language when you have to go out and scrape your car," Kris told him. "Scraping your car has to be the worst part. But at least there are a lot of winter sports and things like that."

"What winter sports do you have?"

"Skiing, snowboarding, skeleton, bobsledding, tobogganing, snowball fights, ice sculpting, ice skating. Let's see, there's also: cross-country skiing, Alpine skiing, snowboarding, ski jumping, speed skating, figure skating, luge, skeleton, bobsleigh and snowmobiling. And we could never forger sports like ice hockey, curling and bandy," Kris told him. His eyebrows rose up, and he looked at Kris with a face that clearly read "What?" Kris just laughed.

"Isn't hockey the national sport? That's what one man told me a while ago," Malfoy asked. Kris gave him a dumbfounded look and laughed.

"It should be, but our official national sport is lacrosse," Kris explained. Kris then had to explain how the game worked, the rules, and other fun trivia. Malfoy seemed interested, although Kris thought it was most dull topic of discussion she'd ever been a part of.

Her phone beeped its reminder that it was three o'clock. Kris reached down into her bag and pulled out her crappy cell phone. She silenced the alarm and looked up at Malfoy. "Sorry, but I've got to run. Give me a call sometime," she said as she stood up, putting money down on her table. "I'm in the book. Nice meeting you Malfoy."

He stood up, shaking her hand very formally. "My pleasure," he said as he bid her good-bye. She smiled at him and nearly laughed. She grabbed her bag and walked to her car. The grin wouldn't come off her face for the rest of the day.

Ali looked at her friend as Kris handed her the coffee she ordered. Kris was just about to go on her break when Ali walked in the door. She took Ali's order and sat down with her, munching on her cookie. As Kris recounted what had happened that day, Ali couldn't stop smiling at her friend. Kris knew Ali lived vicariously through her, which is probably an explanation as to why her friend dragged her all over the city to banquets and parties. Kris couldn't say why Ali did this. Ali was single, straight, and could have any guy she wanted in a heartbeat.

"Do you think he'll call?" Ali asked.

Kris stared at her half-eaten cookie. "I hope he does. I mean, if he does, it would be nice. He really was a nice guy," Kris answered nervously. She ate the rest of her cookie as she checked her watch. Her break was nearly over. "Are you hanging out around here for a while longer?"

Ali smiled a yes, pulling out her laptop. "I've got some work to catch up on anyways. Do you need a ride to the apartment?" Kris shook her head. "Good. Can you give me one after your shift?"

**Please review to let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is welcome, but please no hate mail.**


	2. Old Faces

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling**

Ali and Kris pulled up to their apartment building and parked in the underground parkade. They chit chatted about work and stuff that was completely random. It was closer to eleven when they walked into the two bedroom apartment they shared. It was quaint, but the place worked for the two of them. It had just enough space for an easel in the back corner, with space for a couch, TV, chair, and dining table. It was painted a beautiful shade of beige. Well, it wasn't a beautiful shade. Really it was the color that came with the apartment when it was built.

"Is there any mail for me?" Kris asked as Ali shuffled through envelopes. Ali shook her head. They didn't ever get a lot of mail, but a thousand emails and IM's. Kris opened up her laptop and stared at the screen as she waited for it load. Kris walked into the kitchen and grabbed an apple, washed it off and cut it into even pieces. Ali swooped in and stole a slice off of Kris' plate.

As Kris sat down at her laptop and opened up her email, she saw one specific email from the Royal Hotel. It read:

_Dear Ms. Dune-Lape,_

_It is our pleasure to inform you that your painting, "Sunshine's Daughter", has been given a place on the Juan Newchild Memorial wall. It will be on display for six weeks, at which time you may view it in the Royal Hotel. _

_Thank you, _

_Art Director, Hotel Manager, _

_Bray Braxton_

Kris stared at the signature. As she looked at it longer, the face behind the name came back to her. Bray was her best friend in high school. Bray used to have dark hair, and bright blue eyes. He was an artist, like her, and in all of her art classes. He was a genuinely nice guy, or was. Kris reminded herself how people change since high school. Kris looked at the number in the contact information included at the bottom of the email. She called it immediately.

"Mr. Braxton's office," a female voice came through the phone receiver.

"Hello, this is Kristine Dune-Lape and I'm calling to speak with Mr. Braxton. Would it be possible to send me through?" Kris asked.

"Hold on one minute," the receptionist said. There was a moment of silence and a beep.

"Hello?" came a voice Kris hadn't heard since high school.

Kris could hardly believe it. "Hello, it's Kristine Dune-Lape. I was wondering if you went to Saint Bennett High School," Kris said. There was a pause.

"Yes, but how did-"

"I'm Kris; I was in your art class in every grade. Do you remember me?" Kris asked. "I had a thing for Picasso; I always wore a smock with a bluebird painted on the front, and my hair was absolutely always pulled up and back."

"Kris? Kris is that really you?" Bray asked, overjoyed.

"It really is. How are you? Aren't you the art director and the hotel manager? "

"Yeah, but only until I can find another job that pays better-it's only temporary," Bray explained. Kris laughed. Bray was always the person who never completely unpacked, who always waited for something to come around.

"Do you want to go grab a coffee? Catch up?" Kris asked her old friend.

"Absolutely," Bray answered. "How is tomorrow? Around two o'clock?"

"Perfect," Kris laughed. "I just can't even believe this. How unlikely that we'd ever see each other again after high school..."

"I know. It's always weird," Bray said.

"Alright, I'd better let you go," Kris said. "See you later, Bray."

"Bye Kris," Bray said, and they both hung up.

"Who was that?" Ali called as Kris set the phone down on the desk. Kris smiled a bright smile and looked at her best friend.

"A really old friend," Kris said with a giant smile on her face. Ali waggled her eyes and Kris rolled her eyes, lovingly chucking a pillow at her friend. "There is no way it's like that." Ali just laughed, hiding behind a pillow.

"For now," she muttered with a giant smile on her face.

She was sitting in the coffee place where she worked normally. She had switched shifts with one of her work friends, Jamie. She was sipping on her latte when an old face walked in the door. Bray was wearing glasses that looked like the kind that they gave you at the movie theatres. It was the same kind that Kris wished she could wear, except that she despised how her face looked in them. That and she'd have to pop out the lenses, 20-20 vision. He was wearing a suit, minus the jacket. It looked really hot outside so she didn't blame him. Kris was wearing a tank top and shorts; her sweater was draped lovingly across the back of her chair. She stood up to greet him, shaking his hand and exchanging warm pleasantries. He excused himself to buy a drink, and came back with and iced coffee. Kris smiled a smile that clearly read that she would burst out laughing at a moment's notice.

"What?" Bray asked. "What is it?" He looked around to find the source of amusement.

"An iced coffee? Really? You used to like it black," Kris told him. He looked at her.

"I can't even remember that you remember that," he said in disbelief. "Last I remember, you hated coffee." Kris laughed.

"I went to university. The late nights sure do make you a fan of anything that'll give you another hour of studying," Kris said as she took a sip of her coffee and a nibble of her cookie. Bray nodded.

"What are you doing? I mean, other than your art?" He asked. The death question. Kris had been preparing to answer with a lie. Say that she was a head hunter for some huge company, or the CEO of Apple.

"I work here to pay rent," she admitted. "My art hasn't taken off just yet, so I'm just waiting for something. Living for today," Kris' next thought was 'entering awkward silence that you always see building in movies. Like that awkward silence you get when you know someone is staring at you with a death stare, waiting for someone to leave.' But Kris was wrong.

"That sounds ideal," Bray said.

Kris could've sworn that her eyebrows were up in her hair line. "Ideal? Now, now, now, Bray, your life sounds ideal. Come on, you don't have to worry about cash, and you defiantly don't have to worry about living with your best friend," Kris said. Bray laughed.

"You know me better than that, K. I've lived out of a suitcase for most of my life. I'm always searching for the next biggest thing," Bray smiled. Kris was shocked that Bray even remembered his nickname for her.

"Sorry to say it, B, but you missed investing in the iPod," Kris joked and Bray laughed.

"Well, I missed that one," Bray said. "Did you ever hear what happened to Catlin Stewartly?" Kris shook her head. "Rumor at the reunion you missed, by the way, is that she went off and had an affair with a married man who then left his wife and children and moved in with her. See, she was screwing him for the money, but he left the money with his wife. So now Catlin is stuck with a broke man she doesn't even like. Can you say karma?" they both laughed. It was the kind of gossip that bottom feeders lived off of in high school to stay floating in the chaos. But back in high school, when Bray and Kris were bottom feeders, they heard it and laughed. Never spread it. They simply enjoyed other's failures.

It was two hours later. They caught up on gossip, on life stories, on places they'd lived, on where Bray had traveled in his year off after high school and they talked about Kris' art.

"I want to give your artwork a rotating place in the hotel. We'll pay to rent your paintings for three months at a time and cycle them out every three months for a new one. I've loved your artwork for a long time, even before I realized it was, well, you." Bray sat back and watched Kris' jaw hit the floor and bounce back up.

"I-I don't know what to say, Bray. I just I-" Kris said, shell-shocked.

"Then here's your answer: Yes. Come on, K. Come on, what do you have to lose?" Bray tempted. Then he flashed the Bray-smile that was the sole reason why Kris had her own, personal, private, and claimed desk in high school detention. Kris shook her head at the sky.

"Okay," She shook his hand tightly and smiled at him her Kris-smile that was the reason his desk in detention was next to hers.

"How soon can we get a painting?" He asked. "We've been meaning to replace ours for months."

"I can show you some of the finished paintings I have now if you'd like. They're just at my apartment. You can follow me in your car," Kris said. Bray nodded.

"Okay."

Kris opened her car door, waving Bray over. "You have to enter through the back! That door beeps!" she shouted. Bray jogged over.

"Why does it beep?" Bray asked.

"I have no idea," she said as she walked in the building and into the elevator. Bray followed her, obviously still concerned about the beeping door. "Relax, it only started beeping last week." It didn't help Bray's feeling of un-ease.

They reached the third floor where Kris' apartment was. She went to the last apartment on the left and fumbled with her keys. Suddenly the door flew open to her best friend in her workout pants and sports bra, hair thrown up on the top of her head in a lazy bun, liking a spoonful of ice cream. Her eyes flew open at the sight of a male accompanying her friend.

"KRIS! You could have told me that you were bringing over a GUY!" She held out her hand. "Alikae Mannings, please call me Ali. I hate my name. You are?"

"Bray Braxton. Nice to meet you," he said, shaking her hand.

"Ali this is my closest friend from high school. Can you believe it? I've been selling some art work to the hotel where he manages for a few months and totally didn't even realize it until I saw his name on an email I got. I'm showing him some of my new paintings for the hotel," Kris explained really fast. Ali stepped aside, letting them in and slipped into the kitchen, grabbing the ice cream container and slipping off silently to her room.

Kris showed Bray her corner of the room that acted as her studio, and showed him to the finished paintings that leaned against the wall. As he flipped through them, mentioning the ones he liked, as Kris scribbled down the names of the art pieces. He helped her move the paintings into another pile that she would deliver to the hotel next week.

She smiled at him and walked him to the door. Bray had an important meeting to get to, full of hotel mumbo-jumbo. She said good-bye to him and turned around after closing the door to see Ali standing in the threshold of her room, shaking her head with a very smug look on her face. Kris laughed and picked up a pillow from across the room, chucking it at her friend.

**Please review, it would make me happy. I'll update as often as I can, or as soon as Ali, Bray, Kris, and Draco tell me what to write.**


	3. Back to Basics

**Disclaimer I do not own Harry Potter, only my OC's.**

* * *

Ali sat cross legged on the couch. She was flipping through the channels to find the movie she had just been watching before she sat on the remote. The pizza box was open on the coffee table in front of her, a blanket thrown over top of her, tissues scattered all over the couch. That was the moment when Kris chose to walk in.

Kris rolled her eyes as her friend half cheered as she found her movie once again. The movie? Titanic. Ali looked back at her friend, holding a pizza dripping cheese and in her other hand was a Kleenex. Kris threw down her bag, ran to her room, switched into her sweat pants and a baggy t-shirt and sat down with her friend. Kris had came in at the part where Leonardo DiCaprio was on top of the boat, telling Kate Winslet to hold her breath. Thus, opening the flood gates for the age old argument: was there really enough room on the door for them both?

It seemed like a hundred hours later that the movie ended ant the last of the credits rolled by. The two girls were all cried out, cold and exhausted. They said goodnight and crawled into their beds and slept into Saturday.

The smell of bacon wafted into Kris' room, swivelled around her bed, poked her nose, and landed on her brain. Mornings of her early childhood came rushing back into the fore-front of her thoughts, bringing tears prickling in to her eyes. It took her a few moments to compose herself, but when her eyes were no longer red, she met her friend for breakfast.

Ali had pulled out all the stops. There were eggs, bacon, toast, shredded hash browns, and lovely hot tea. "So," Ali said with that long vowel. "What ever happened to that guy?"

"What guy?" Kris asked, taking a bite of yolk-soaked toast.

"The one who you met at the cafe, with the Barbie-doll hair," Ali told her. Kris smiled at her explanation.

"He hasn't called me yet. What's up with all the food?" Kris asked, stuffing her face.

Ali shrugged as her explanation. "To remind you of my extreme roommate status that beats all previous roommates. I kick all previous roommate ass for not waking you up before three," Ali joked as she ate her hash browns.

Kris' jaw dropped. "What? What time did you say it was?" Ali held up three fingers. "In the afternoon?" Ali nodded. "Did you drug me last night?" Ali laughed.

It was six o'clock. Kris was sitting in front of her easel. The sky was blending in with the Rocky Mountains as the snow glistened in the sun light. The prairies below the foothills were blossoming in green grass in a fresh spring. The sun beams were raining down from the clouds like rain, but the sky was completely blue. The blue you only saw in Alberta.

Kris was in her zone. She was completely zoned out to the rest of the world. She was focused on the picture that was inside her head.

What interrupted her? The ringing of the door bell. Kris groaned, set down her paintbrush and her paints. She trudged over to the door in her painting smock with the blue bird still painted on it. She whipped her hands on her smock as she opened the door.

There was a man standing there, he was facing the door, holding on to a small piece of paper. When the door opened, he stopped looking at it, and looked up at Kris, giving a small look that looked like a smile, but probably was something else. He put the piece of paper in his back pocket.

"Hello, Kris," Malfoy said. Kris gave him a confused look. "I didn't understand how to use my phone. It's brand new."

"So you came to my house?" Kris confirmed. Malfoy stuck his hand in his pocket, thumb sticking out. "It's okay. I've had crappy cell phones too. Come in, we have food if you want some." Malfoy didn't move. "I don't bite, you know."

Malfoy chuckled, stepping inside. "No, I suppose you don't. I was wondering how you were," Malfoy half said, half asked. Kris gave him a bit of a smile.

"I was just painting. I got a contract with the Royal Hotel for my artwork. Turns out I know the manager. I went to school with him. It's really nice to see old friends, don't you think?" Kris asked.

"I never had many friends. People don't always appreciate others for having fine breeding," Malfoy said. Kris shot him a look.

"Breeding? Are you a dog? Or a woman in the eighteenth century? I haven't heard that word used in any other way. Unless you are referring to another type of animal, then it would make sense." Kris asked. Malfoy laughed.

"To my parents, good breeding is essential for having a proper place in society," he said. Kris looked at him as he gestured towards her painting, indicating to her that he was interested in taking a closer look. She nodded.

"Is that your opinion?" Kris asked. Malfoy stared intently at the painting. It was a moment before he looked up into Kris' eyes.

"Not necessarily," Malfoy commented. He walked over to the couch, taking a seat. He put his left foot and rested it on his right knee, holding his shin. Kris shook her head, looking at how smug he looked, and walked into the kitchen.

"Would you like a drink? We've got hot chocolate, tea, coffee, iced tea, milk, juice... Your pick," Kris shouted from the fridge. Malfoy turned his head in her direction.

"An iced tea should be delightful, thank you," he answered. "Do you live alone?"

Kris closed the fridge with her hip as she held the pitcher filled with sweet goodness in liquid form. "No, I could never afford to live here if I didn't have a roommate, or a better job. I live with my closest friend, Alikae. She goes by Ali. Don't let her know I told you her real name, she despises it," Kris answered.

"I couldn't say why, it's a perfectly fine name," Malfoy answered.

"Kind of like Draco," Kris answered as she came into the living room holding two glasses of proper iced tea. Sweetened enough to make her child-like taste buds pleased. Malfoy was half shocked at the use of his proper name, but the shock didn't register on his face. Kris took her place on the opposite side of the sofa.

"I guess so, but I never asked to be called by my last name, you know," Malfoy said. "Someone in my school called me Malfoy and it simply stuck with me. Ever have that kind of a nickname?"

Kris nodded. "Yeah, Kris. My dad always wanted two sons, Alexander and Christopher. So when I came along, I was named Kristine. He called Kris and it caught on with the rest of my family and eventually, it just became my name," Kris laughed. "Do you like being called Malfoy?"

He shrugged. "I never had a choice before."

"If you did, would you chose Draco, or Malfoy?" Kris asked him as she re-adjusted.

He thought for a few minutes. "Draco. I prefer my first name, I think," he answered, looking at Kris. She smiled.

"Then that's what I'll call you from here on out," she said with a large grin on her face.

"What about you?" Draco asked. "Kris or Kristine?" Kris took a drink from her glass.

"Kris. It's been so long in my life that I don't really think that I could adapt to being called my actual name. I mean, it's been my whole life. You know?" Kris said.

Draco nodded. He held out his hand, Kris took it. "It's a pleasure to meet you, I'm Draco."

Kris smiled. "I'm Kris. Sup?" Draco's eyebrows shot up. "How are you?" they both laughed.

"So, what school did you go to?" Draco asked Kris. Kris looked up at him.

"I went to a boarding school in the US. I went there with my friend, Bray, who, coincidentally, has re-entered my life. He's the guy who manages the hotel," Kris said, trying to change the subject. She didn't like people asking questions that went too deep.

"I went to a boarding school too. It's in Scotland, great school. I learned a lot there. Met quite a few... er... interesting people. Was that what your school was like?" Draco asked. He set his glass on the table, carefully making sure that there was a coaster underneath it, as to not ruin the finish on the wood.

"Oh my gosh! Someone else who appreciates the use of the coaster! You realize how amazing it is to find someone else like that?" Kris gasped. Draco looked confused, and then he understood. He laughed a little bit. "I'll just be one second. Stay right there," Kris said. She walked into her room and took off her smock, which becomes uncomfortable when sitting on a couch. She threw on a loose knit sweater. She also grabbed a brush and ran it through her hair.

She walked back into the living room and sat back down on the couch. "Is it cold in here? My god, I'm freezing my ass off!" Kris walked over to the thermostat and turned up the heat, which had dropped by a good ten degrees in an hour. Curious, Kris opened up the blinds.

It was pouring. The sky was black. Lightning was lighting up the sky every couple of seconds, and the thunder rolled like there was no tomorrow. It was quite scary to see the sky lit up with electricity. Draco got up to see exactly what was going on, and let out a low whistle when he saw the sky.

"I'd better get home," he said, heading for the door.

"What? Did you drive?" Kris asked. The look on his face answered that question. "No way. You'll get stuck down by lightning. At the least, you'll be soaked to the bone. At least stay here until it dies down. It's no trouble, Ali will be back with her car in a few hours, and we'll give you a ride to wherever you are staying," Kris argued. He couldn't argue with that. He nodded and looked up at the ceiling. Kris observed his movements, and the way he stood. He looked as if he was right out of an old movie. He stood with his hands at his side; they weren't fiddling or moving nervously. His eyes were fixed on a focal point, a piece of artwork, hanging above the window. It was a very tiny picture of a sea shell; it was to bring good vision on the house. Ali had bought it in a flea market, and that's what the vender had told her, no doubt to up the price. Still, it was a beautiful picture, and Kris hung it up regardless.

"That is a... Interesting picture to hang in there," Draco said. "Considering that people who live in a house with an ocean motif normally have a view of the sea... Just saying..." Kris gave a half smile.

"Ali was told by a vender that it's to bring good visions, and she hates seeing snow and rain, so she hung it above the window to help urge the world to always be thirty degrees and sunny," Kris told Draco.

"Sorry to break the news to you, but it doesn't seem to be working," Draco laughed. Kris laughed and agreed with him. She cleared her throat and closed the curtains.

"Would you like something to eat?" Kris offered, trying to be a good hostess. Draco smiled and nodded a yes. Kris walked over to the kitchen and hid behind some cabinetry. She looked back to make sure that Draco wasn't watching, and pulled a long piece of wood out from her boot. It was round and smooth, about eleven inches, made of cherry wood, with a core of dragon heartstring. It was a wand. Kris waved it slightly, and a bowl flew out of a cabinet, as well, all the ingredients needed to make a crepe swished out of their hiding places, and landed with grace onto the counter. Kris glanced back at Draco once more, to be sure he wasn't watching as she had all the ingredients fly into the bowl in the right amounts, the egg shells disposed of themselves and the remaining ingredients replaced themselves to their proper places. A whisk flew out from a drawer, and began mixing the lumpy batter into a smooth mixture. A pan flew from its place and landed on the stove top. As Kris peered back to check on her guest, she panicked as she saw him coming towards the kitchen. As fast as she could, she put her wand in her boot, and grabbed the bowl and looked like she was stirring.

"Do you need some help?" Draco asked. Kris gave a very nervous, half scared smile, and shook her head. Still trying to calm down, she bit her bottom lip.

"I almost have it from here, you could watch some television, if you wanted," Kris said. Draco gave a look like someone who knew something was going on, but was keeping it well contained. Kris knew he wouldn't suspect anything, but knew she had to be more careful.

"You're sure?" Draco asked, uncertain of Kris' current flustered look. She nodded silently, looking very off-kilter. "I could stir that for you. What exactly are we eating?"

"Oh," Kris said. "Crepe's. French food. And I love crepes. If you want to help, it'd be fine. Roll up your sleeves, this could be messy."

"I'll be fine. What would you like me to do?" Draco asked.

"Here, stir please. I shall cut up fruit," Kris stated. Kris walked over to the fridge and grabbed out kiwis, strawberries, raspberries and blackberries. Personally, Kris despised blackberries, and she never ate raspberries, but figured that Draco might like some of them. She washed the fruit and was just about to start cutting up the strawberries when there was a rattling at the door.

Kris set down her knife, leaving Draco to fend for himself in the kitchen, and walked over to the door. Upon opening, she discovered the source of noise, which had added cussing to the noise, was Ali. She had two large, bulging, brown bags of groceries. She was bent in the strangest position when Kris opened the door, reaching for her keys without dropping the food.

Kris reached down, grabbing the keys and then took a soaking bag of groceries from her friend, laughing the entire time. "Draco, the blonde guy from the cafe is here. He's in the kitchen. I was making crepes," Kris informed.

"You can't boil water, let alone, make crepes. Dear Lord, we are going to kill the poor man before he even gets to know you properly. For his own health, I hope he's cooking," Ali said. It was true, without her spells, Kris wouldn't last more than a few days. She had been praying for a miracle so she wouldn't have to cut up the fruit, scared the metal would find her finger instead of the fruit.

Ali didn't know what Kris really was. Kris did a good job hiding it from her. The only thing Kris probably could do herself, before she met Ali, without magic was paint. Muggle life was hard for Kris, and having a roommate to study seemed like a good idea. She didn't realize that with a muggle living in close proximity all the time, it would be extremely difficult for Kris to perform even the simplest magic. She hated to admit it, but Kris was out of practice.

Kris' parents had both been magical. Her mother was a pure blood, her father a muggle born. They had both gone to the same school, same year, but neither of them had really liked each other until they had graduated and met five years later. They fell in love, and settled down in the country, raising two children, both magical, and sending them both to the same school that they had attended. The school was on a tiny island that most muggles missed noticing. Her mother said it was a protective spell to keep muggle eyes from ever seeing the school. The school was located in the middle of Hudson's Bay, where it was cold most of the time, and freezing the rest. Granted, being in the middle of the ocean did have its perks.

Kris and Ali walked into the kitchen to find a plate of crepes, and half a bowl of mixture left. It seems that Draco had talent in the kitchen. He was flipping one over when the two girls walked into the room.

"Draco, this is my roommate, Ali. Vice versa," Kris introduced. Draco held out his hand to the soaking wet girl. Ali shook his hand and smiled a warm greeting. "Ali, could you please cut the fruit, once you dry off, while I put away the groceries?" Ali nodded, knowing her friend was merely asking to save her own fingers.

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"Is this where you are staying?" Kris asked Draco as they drove up to an apartment building. Draco nodded.

"Yes, my company has rented out one of the apartments for me to stay in for the duration of my work," Draco answered. Kris looked down.

"How long will you be staying?" Kris asked.

Draco stared out the window, watching raindrops make their way down the glass. "As long as it takes," he replied. "Thank you, for dinner, and letting me stay while the storm died down."

Kris smiled. "Thank you for cooking dinner and you are welcome to come over whenever. We always have food." Draco smiled-a very rare thing, it seemed.

He bid her goodbye and ran as fast as he could into his building to escape the rain. Kris watched him make it in, then, slowly drove away.

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**Thank you for reading, and putting up with my characters as they continue to develop in the story line. Please review! It will make me happy :)**


	4. Journey to the Past

**I do not own Harry Potter, even though I would love to trade places with JKR. Just saying. I do, however, own Kris, Bray, and Ali... because they are my characters... Just saying.**

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Kris sighed as she sucked back a coca-cola. The television was on, but she wasn't really caring about what was on. She looked around the room. Setting down the aluminum can, she looked around the apartment. Ali was gone.

Kris ran into her room. She had bartered when she and Ali had switched apartments for the room with the window seat; in agreement that Kris wouldn't do laundry or cook. It was for the safety of their clothes and stomachs. Kris lifted up the seat cushion.

Underneath it was a piece of wood that lifted up; it had books covering the whole first layer. After pulling out the thin top layer of books, Kris found the false bottom. She lifted up the thin piece of wood and smiled as she saw her old spell books, robes, herbs, potion ingredients, her old cauldron, her acceptance letter, her photo album filled with moving pictures of her years at school, her rememberall, her quill, two bottles of ink, one spilled bottle of ink and a small, delicate, pressed flower. It was a rare flower that she and Bray had found one day. Bray and Kris had sworn to keep it a secret. He must have gone back near the end of their last year, because, for her graduation present from him, he'd given her their flower, pressed. She'd cried and smiled. A lot. Then, Kris had hated herself for being such a girly-girl. But Kris knew that she would probably never see her friend again.

Kris pulled out one of her old robes, searching for a hidden pocket. She pulled out a small, drawstring, blue velvet pouch that ratted with the sound of coins. It was filled with Knuts for messenger owls. She always hated not having enough change on her, so she'd always kept tonnes on her. Just in case. She smiled as she opened it up. There were twenty-three Knuts inside the pouch, at all times. Twenty-three was Kris' lucky number. She had it as her quiddich number, too.

Tears welled up in her eyes. She was one for sentiment, but never had time to reminisce. She opened up her old potions textbook, and a piece of loose paper fell out from one of the pages. She looked at it and saw an image of a younger version of Kris, smiling up at the person looking at the drawing. Kris' hair was long and flowing in some invisible wind. She was either laughing, or just about to. The caption below the moving drawing read:

_Will you go to the dance with me?_

Kris wiped away a tear from her cheek. It had been drawn by Bray. She had never seen it before, granted, it was stuck in the textbook she never looked at. She sat back on the floor and wondered how he had reacted when she'd gone to the dance with Jameson Klint. He'd ended up going with some girl named Lucy or Lucky or Leila. She didn't remember. How had she missed it? Kris picked up an encyclopedia and placed the piece of paper in the back of it, not wanting it to get damaged.

Pulling her wand out of her boot, Kris waved it and the books, herbs, robes and rememberall flew back into the false bottom, fitting and folding perfectly. She waved her wand once more and all the muggle books flew back into place. She missed holding her wand without fear of muggles finding out. Kris missed waving her wand around, and feeling the magic, the power. Kris was not one who was power-hungry; she just missed the help with everyday life.

Looking all around the apartment, Kris waved her wand, practicing old spells, making the laundry fold and place its self inside of the drawers and closets. She made the floors sweep, feather dusters dust, windows wash, couch raise, and objects soar. She felt the joy of being completely free again. She practiced old spells and counter curses. And, when her cell phone rang, she didn't get up to grab it.

"Accio phone!" Kris called. Her cherry wand seemed to buzz in excitement at the prospect of all the spell casting. The small object flew into her hands with ease. Kris couldn't stop smiling. She answered it. "Hello?"

"Hi, it's Bray," came her old friend's voice. "I was wondering what you were up to."

Kris laughed really loud, covering her mouth as she did. "I'm sorry; it's just so crazy strange for you to call me right now. I've dusted off the old cherry. Want to come over and we'll see how your old vine does? My Merlin, you had a beautiful wand. Ten inches... Right?"

"Ten and a half. I still have it. I don't think I'd ever get rid a wand like the one I've got. Not many people have a wand made of vine, you know. I still think that Zander had the most handsome wand I've ever seen before in my life. Do you remember how beautiful his wand worked with him? I don't think anyone's ever had a wand that nice..." Bray continued. He drifted off.

"I went back to see him, last year. There's a yew tree growing over him, you know," Kris said with a heavy heart. There was that awkward silence that always presumes after one's loss is mentioned. "So, you coming over or what?"

She could almost see his smile through the phone. "Sure. When do you want me over?"

"How fast can you apparate?" Kris joked. She heard a long laughter from her friend on the other side of the line.

"How fast can you hang up the phone?" Bray joked, but Kris, as she always did when they were younger, took him completely literally, only to upset him, and hung up the phone. It was a whole minute before her friend appeared in her living room.

"You know," Kris said as she stood up, turning to face Bray. "It is really impolite to apperate into one's place of dwelling." Kris burst out laughing, barely able to hold a straight face for the entire sentence. Soon, she had Bray laughing. Just like in the old days. "How about a quick duel? Hmm?" Kris said with a very mysterious smile that was always the one that got them in trouble. With a flick of her wand, she moved the couch over to give them room.

Assuming battle stations, as Bray commonly referred to their wacky stances, they began shooting small spells at each other. Only spells to disarm the other. Pretty soon, though, Bray had Kris in a tight spot. He was using all his old moves, no doubt expecting Kris to counter with a risky spell like she always did. Kris played it the exact opposite.

Bray didn't expect her new move, and found himself on the ground. He smiled at her as he stood up again. He came back with a strong move, but Kris anticipated it. She used expelliarmus at just the right moment, and watched his wand fly and bounce onto a chair.

Bray scoffed. He looked at his old friend with amusement. "You, my dear, have been practicing. While I have been utilizing my talents in other areas," Bray commented. Kris raised her eyebrows.

"You really expect me to believe that?" Kris moved the couch back with a flick of her wand. "You always hold back. Always. Yet, I saw you floor Fran in third year. She was one of the best duelers. And don't tell me you got lucky, because I saw you disarm Harold the next week right away. He was top of the class." Bray looked up.

"You've caught me. I secretly excelled in school and stopped working on dueling all together after we graduated," Bray looked slightly sad. "Do you miss it? School, I mean."

Kris pondered as she flopped back on the couch, Bray sitting beside her. "Every single day; I miss the glory days, when we were young and didn't have to hide what we are. I miss seeing everyone, too. But isn't that expected?" Bray nodded, not saying what he desperately wanted too. He just nodded and agreed.

They laughed and talked for an hour or so, exchanging old stories about their years at wizarding school together. They argued about small details that had fogged and blurred over the years. They discussed politics in the wizarding community, and Kris complained about her lack of mail. Bray laughed and agreed on the mail part, except his issue was getting it to stop.

Bray's a pure blood, family rich, but unconcerned with the general status quo. He was the only son in a long line of family history, an odd occurrence for his family. Bray had grown up isolated with his head burrowed deep like a tick into the wizarding community; his parents even took him on a trip to London to see Olivander's wand shop for his wand. He knew more than Kris knew about the wizarding community, but he was always the boy who didn't quite fit. There was always something off with him. Kris liked him just fine. Mostly because he put up with her and her tom-boyish attitude she had assumed in a fit of teenage angst. Kris was better in potions and transfiguration than Bray was, but Bray excelled in Defence against the Dark Arts and Care of Magical Creatures. Kris envied him for that, the same way he envied her. His wand was a rarity, and Kris had always told him he would go off and be a famous wizard. But Bray was a soul who couldn't stand the same scenery for long and took off to the west coast once school had let out. Kris moved on, leaving her friend behind her once the letters and postcards stopped coming. She just thought that friend's separated like that sometimes.

Kris had met Ali through an ex-boyfriend at a gala. They'd hit it off at once. Some friend ships are just instant like that. Kris had explained her housing dilemma to Ali after she'd broken up with her ex. Kris was only moving in with Ali until she got back on her feet.

Ali came in to the apartment the way a stray bird comes into a kitchen through an open window, spreading chaos and panic in her every step. She barely said a hello to Bray as she swept past him, complaining about something no one could grasp. Bray, sensing a girl-issue, nervously said good-bye to Kris. Kris, on the other hand, was trying to keep Ali calm and remove Bray from the whirlwind of an angry woman.

Bray walked out into the hallway and disapparated back to his home.

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**Thank you guys so much for reading. I would love to hear from you guys, please review! **


	5. Losing Everything

**Hello earthlings. I'm very sorry that this chapter has been taking so long to come out, I've been having a difficult time advancing the story in a way that feels really natural to me and I want anything that comes out to be perfect for you guys. Please enjoy this new edition.**

**PS: All of JKR's characters belong to her; all my characters belong to me. **

Kris let Ali cry. She made a hot beverage for herself, and opened a book in a chair adjacent to her weeping best friend. Kris wasn't a cold-hearted person who completely ignored her friend's pain. Kris was a friend who knew her friend wasn't one who could stand sympathy when she was this upset. Ali couldn't handle sympathy of other people when she cried, which is why she hated crying in front of people. Kris knew that and just let her cry. She knew that when she was done crying, she would be ready to talk.

It was maybe an hour later. Ali's tears had left her throat dry and scratchy.

"There's a cup on the counter. I left the kettle on," Kris said to Ali without looking up. Wrapping a blanket around herself, she went into the kitchen and made herself a hot tea. She at holding her cup in both of her hands, wrapped up in a ball on the sofa.

Kris looked up at her friend, setting down her book and tea. She looked at her friend concerned. "Are you okay?" she asked. Ali scoffed.

"That, undoubtedly, is the most pointless question I have ever been asked. You are either okay, or not okay. And, judging by my current state, and nearly everything that's happened since, I most defiantly not okay," Ali said, wiping a tear from her eye. Kris smiled a weak smile. That was the Ali she knew.

"Alright then, Ali, please tell me what's wrong? You seem upset," Kris said in a tone that was clearly nearly sarcastic. Ali gave her a look through tears that looked like the happy Ali. Kris got up and walked into the kitchen, grabbing six chocolate chip cookies from the cookie jar.

"Kris," Ali said, looking up at her friend and grabbing a cookie. "I lost my job and we are already behind on the bills. What are we going to do? We'll be evicted in two weeks if we can't come up with the payments. Where will we go? I don't even know where we'll go!" Kris didn't let any of her worry glide onto her face. You could say she's good at controlling her emotions when needed.

Kris knew that their landlord had been so nice about their payments and them being short on cash, but that was three months ago. Now the old man was crabby and anxious, cornering them in the elevator and switching languages in his rants from Italian to English. Kris and Ali had been struggling to make ends meet in the last few weeks.

"We'll come up with something, Ali, we always do," Kris re-assured. Kris looked over at her easel and the painted canvases. She could sell some more of her paintings. She had a decent amount of money in the bank… She could sell her paints she had just bought. She didn't need them, really. She had enough painting supplies to get by for a few weeks. Unless she ran out of cobalt… She would keep the cobalt and return the rest.

She could just see into her bedroom. She would return some of the new clothes she'd bought. Kris told herself that she wouldn't use most of them anyways.

That might just be enough to get them by. They would find Ali a new job-one that paid more so she wouldn't feel bad. Kris could even look for a better paying job, or take on a lot more shifts.

Kris waved her painting of the rain over the prairies good-bye. She gave a half smile as it disappeared into the woman's truck. As the engine roared to life, she muttered her final goodbye to her labour of love, then looked down at her hand and saw the paper that was meant to replace it. She pocketed the two hundred dollars and mentally tallied up how much more money she still needed to get for their bills. She sighed.

As Kris opened up the door to her apartment, she saw Ali, hair dangling in front of her face, body hunched over a paper, eyes fixed on the writing, pen in hand. She was searching through the HELP WANTED or FOR HIRE section of the newspaper. Kris groaned.

"Ali, you don't need a job right away. Look for one that fits what you love!" Kris scolded.

Ali scoffed. "So says the girl who works in a coffee house," she retaliated. Kris overdramatically threw her hands over her heart.

"I'll have you know that I love coffee!" they both laughed. "Anyways, we have half our bill right here." Ali's head shot up. Kris pulled the cash out of her pocket and added it into a plastic zip-lock bag that had multiple bills in it.

"How on earth did you-"

"I sold some old pieces that were collecting dust and I'm picking up more shifts at the coffee house-because I love making dull people coffee so much," Kris joked. "We have eight hundred here, and about six hundred in the bank. We don't need a whole lot more, but we'll be dead broke for a while."

In all honesty, the three pieces Kris had sold were her masterpieces, in her opinion. She loved how each piece had told a story that was so genuine and true. The stories had changed every time she had looked at them. It was like the images were always moving; the buffalo, rain, snow and trees always moving and shifting places. She had wrapped them specially so that they would be preserved better than the others and be kept clean and pristine. She had planned n hanging those pieces in her house-once she bought one. They would hang strategically so that they were always the focal points of key rooms in the house. But you did what you had to do.

Kris had sold them, telling herself that she'd paint some nicer paintings that were more exquisite. They would be more vibrant and vivid then the ones before. She knew she was lying to herself.

Ali, hearing that they weren't at as big a risk for being evicted, looked so much more relaxed and happy, like the weight of the world had lifted off her shoulders. She set the pen down and lent back in her chair with a small smile on her face.

"Want a tea?" she offered. Kris smiled in agreement.

"Want some ice cream?" Kris asked. She followed her friend into the kitchen and went into the freezer, pulling out the good vanilla ice cream out from the back of the freezer. Ali pulled out spoons and bowls, waiting for their old kettle to boil over the stove. They clinked their spoons jokingly as they ate their cold dessert.

They watched some reality television as they sipped and munched before they got in Ali's car and drove to bank, depositing the cash into Kris' account and heading back home. Kris quickly wrote up a check and Ali and her strutted up to their landlord's door, happily handing the sweet old man the check, apologising for the missing money, hoping he'd be nice about it. He had a look on his face that was clearly shock.

In all honesty, Mr. Slato had been slowly raising their rent, trying to persuade the girls to move out. Mr. Slato had been planning on renovating the apartment so he could charge more to the next renters.

He pondered his options. "You have two weeks to come up with the missing three hundred, or you're out." And like that, his door closed in their faces with a slam, check disappearing inside the old man's apartment. Kris and Ali couldn't believe their ears. They felt defeated.

"How are we going to come up with three hundred dollars?" Ali cried. Kris had an idea, but it would be harder than selling her paintings.

"We'll get the money," she said, extremely pissed off at Mr. Slato.

Ali came home three days later to find Kris' easel missing, as well as a few paintings. The huge stack that was going to the hotel had left quite a while ago, but the ones that had been set aside to be put into storage were nowhere in sight.

"Kris!" she shouted. "Kris!" She watched as her friend came out of her room, a sad expression on her face. "Kris, where's your easel? And your paintings?"

Kris shrugged. "Sold them and made the payment," she said calmly. Ali's jaw dropped.

"What?" she asked. "How are you going to paint?"

Kris shrugged and disappeared back in her room.

**Thank you so much for reading! Would love to hear your thoughts and comments! Hoping to publish the next chapter next week or as soon as I can! **


	6. Meeting

**DISCLAIMER: JK owns her stuff, I own mine. Got it? Good. I would really like to apologise for how terrible this chapter is, in advance. I would also like to apologise for how long it took. I love you all!**

Kris sat in front of the kitchen table. She had nothing to do and daytime TV was more painful to watch than it was to pull out your own toe nails one by one. She groaned and flung herself onto the couch. It was only a few seconds before she got up and walked into the kitchen, opened the fridge and closed it after seeing nothing worth eating. She flung herself onto the couch and flipped on the television.

She turned off the TV. She got up and remembered the one thing she still could do: magic. She smiled and pulled out her wand. She practiced spells left and right, warming up her wand as it buzzed with excitement. She remembered some of the things she could do without her paint sets.

She went into the kitchen and flicked her wand, making objects fly from one end of the room to the other; ingredients, bowls, spoons, cookie sheets. She was making chocolate cookies through the use of magic, therefor making it so much easier than making them like a muggle does.

Ali had already found a job interview she was at right now in her field expertise. Kris still had no idea what Ali did for a living. She always seemed to zone out when she talked about work. It had something to do with this guy named Dan. Was he her boss or a co-worker or a client? Well… Kris hadn't the slightest clue.

The oven timer dinged and with a flick of her wand, Kris made the oven open and the cookies fly out. They aligned themselves perfectly on a cooling rack. Kris couldn't imagine a life without magic-made cookies. She took a bite out of one and sighed at the delicious taste of melted chocolate. She started cleaning-using her magic. The pots seemed to dance through the air with the sponge, making circles above the sink.

The whole area reeked in the feeling that sent shivers down her spine-shivers she hadn't felt since she was twelve. It was the feeling you get when some little piece of your childhood comes back and visits you in adult hood-memories long forgotten reawakened.

In a flash, Kris' concentration broke. Everything came crashing down as her eyes shot towards the sound of keys. She tucked away her wand and started to look like she was cleaning up the splashed water covering the floor.

Ali shouted a hello, followed by a curse as her keys slipped out of her hands, hitting the floor.

"Kris! Kris! There's someone here to see you!" Ali called from the front hall. Kris swore-mentally. She pulled out her wand and quickly waved it, making the water disappear. She waved it again, cleaning herself up a little bit.

"I'm in the kitchen Ali! I made cookies!" she called.

Ali let out a loud, audible gasp, clearly shocked that her roommate even knew where the flour was, let alone the sugar. Kris came around the corner and into the front hall, slightly shocked at seeing Draco Malfoy standing in the front hall beside Ali.

"Hello, Kris. How are you?" Draco asked with a smooth demeanor. Kris looked down at what she was wearing. Her jeans and t-shirt didn't seem very glamorous compared with Draco's dress shirt that was untucked over top of his black jeans.

"F-fine. H-how are you?" she stuttered out of shock that he was here. Ali giggled at her friends reaction.

"I saw him just out in the hall, apparently already headed up. I told him to just come up with me. You cooked?" Ali said.

"Yeah, well, I baked. It's just chocolate chip cookies, really. Do you guys want some? The kitchen's a bit of mess-I couldn't remember where anything went. Sorry Ali," Kris said. Ali gave a look to her friend that clearly illustrated an 'Oh really? Why would you do that?' thought process. They all moved into the kitchen and devoured the fresh cookies.

"So, where are you from, Draco?" Ali asked, clearly trying to pry into his life.

"London. Where are you from, Alikae?" Draco retaliated with all the flare of a gentlemen.

Ali's eyes blazed at the use of her real name. "I was born in Nova Scotia, raised in Ontario, and moved out here for college," Ali said with an edge of resentment in her voice.

"And how's that going for you?" Kris asked with a joking tone.

"It sucks. Oh well, at least I work for an excellent company again!" Ali commented. Kris' eyes grew huge.

"Did Box take you on?" Kris asked. Ali smiled brightly and nodded. Both of them started screaming-much to Draco's dismay. "I can't believe it! That's your dream job AND YOU GOT IT!"

All Ali could do was nod and smile. They both happened to turn and see the look of utter confusion on Draco's face. "I got my dream job at Box Magazine. I have an article on high end fashion, and how to afford the look of it on a less than high end budget. It's my specialty," Ali said smiling. Draco didn't look any less confused. "Come on, I'll show you." Kris gave him a look that said: "Oh, you've done it now!" all that Draco and Kris could do was follow Ali helplessly into her room.

It was every girl's fantasy closet. It was stocked to the brim with shoes, purses, dresses, shirts, fancy shirts, pants, fancy pants, jewelry, skirts, wraps, sweaters, shrugs, swimming wear, sport wear, and outfits that would only be worn in front of the queen of England.

Draco's face wasn't unimpressed, just disconnected. It wasn't every man's dream to have a closet stuffed with designer clothes. He looked at this and Kris could only think of one thought that would run across a lot of guy's minds: high maintenance. Draco just nodded his head.

Kris saw Draco's loss for interest. "Ali' basically writes what she calls a woman's bible to high fashion for when moths are flying out of your wallet. She's an expert on it-fashion is this woman's life. If you ever need to know what's in style, she's the one to go to."

"Ahh…" Draco nodded. He looked very out-of-place. He didn't look like he fit in, not in this situation. Kris saw this; she knew she had to get him out of this situation as Ali started showing him different types of fabrics and colours.

"Would you like something to drink? A snack?" Kris asked Draco. He looked at her and nodded, and was drug out of the room by Kris as Ali started putting away her multitude of cocktail dresses. "I'm sorry about that. Once she gets going, she doesn't stop until a nuclear bomb explodes." Kris took out three wine glasses and poured red wine into each of them. She handed Draco a glass as she walked past him and into the living room. "You might as well join in the celebration. Shit-the cookies!" She turned on a dime around Draco and grabbed the plate, nearly spilling wine on the cookies. Draco reached out his hand and took the plate from her. She flashed a 'thank you' smile out him.

"Are we celebrating?" Ali asked as she walked to the living room, seeing the wine glasses. "Cookies!" she leaped and snatched a cookie off the plate before Draco even had the chance to set the plate down. "Oh! You know who we should call?" Ali asked through a mouthful of cookies.

Kris would regret asking. She would regret opening her mouth. But regret has this funny way of occurring after the event occurs. So, unaware of the outcome of her question, Kris asked it. "Who should we call to celebrate?"

"Bray."

You could almost feel the tension in the room. Bray and Draco were eyeing each other the way two animals eye each other up before a fight. They looked like they were trying to figure out who could get the upper hand in a fight, except still waiting for someone to make the first move. Ali, who had finished the bottle of wine and switched to some vodka, the bottle was old and cheap. It had been hidden in the back of the liquor cabinet. It was waiting patiently to be re-gifted, but all hopes of that had ended when Ali opened it.

Bray's arrival hadn't gone over well. Draco was hovering over Kris like a starving dog hovers over and protects his steak. Bray and Draco had acquired a stance and a look that made Kris slightly scared for the safety. She was thankful she'd only sipped half her wine glass-in case someone needed to be driven to the hospital. Kris introduced the two of them, each one of them jerking their heads in a form of greeting.

Kris was trying desperately to attempt to diffuse the tension, but nothing was working. Nothing except Ali. She cranked up some tunes and started dancing around. She was hooting and hollering, managing to avoid spilling her drink. Kris watched as Ali danced her way over to Bray.

"Dance with me," she mumbled, grabbing Bray's hands and pulling him off the couch. He shot a look to Kris that clearly read: 'help me.' Kris couldn't do anything and watched as it turned into an awkward dance for Bray, and a drunken slutty dance for Ali.

Then it all changed. Ali's never been a big drinker. She's hardly ever gotten drunk before. Kris knew this, and could only run after her friend as she ran away from the party to the bathroom. Kris held her friend's hair as she hurled her last meal and a half a bottle of vodka into the toilet. After a few minutes, Kris walked out of the bathroom, knowing in full detail how bad this night had been-what, with the puking roommate and the two men in a stare off.

"I really can't tell you how much I really hate to ask, but I really need you guys to leave-I'm so sorry. Ali's just… well… really sick and-" Kris said as she poked her head out the bathroom door. She saw that the guys were still give each other silent death threats. She hated asking people to leave.

"It's alright, Kris. I understand," Bray said-too nicely and too slow. Draco-who was behind him-had a murderous look on his face. His right hand twitched and Kris was scared as she watched him take a deep breath. Seeing Kris' brow line wrinkle in worry, Draco smiled at her, nodding his head. His eyes shot back to Bray in an instant, the look of hatred burning into the back of Bray's skull.

She watched the two leave, and went back to her friend's aid.

**The next chapter will be posted… when it's done… Stay tuned! I love to hear from you guys, let me know what you think! **


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